A Night of Despair, Pain, Hope, and Love
by Rosa Cotton
Summary: In the late hours of the night, after the celebration of victory, frustrations, desires, fears, and emotions come to light as the time to bid farewell draws near for two certain people. Quite AU.


Disclaimer: _The Lord of the Rings_, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J.R.R. Tolkien's estate. The only thing I own is the plot. 

Author's Note: I have been struggling to write this for several months, and today, it finally decided to let me complete it. Whew! This is based on Tolkien's original draft, thus the presence of Idis and the obvious absence of cough_that she-elf_cough! And I have taken some other liberties. So this is very AU. 

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A Night of Despair, Pain, Hope, and Love 

She looks over Edoras from a balcony, concealed in the shadows. The hairs around her face float in the light breeze. 

The feast is over. She heard guests walking past on their way to their chambers a long while ago. She had left as soon as she dared without being rude. It was a celebration of the Rohirrim victory at Helm's Deep. 

Here, alone, she tries to gather her scattered thoughts and thinks back on the feast.  

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She had been nervous during the meal. As she and her cousin waited on the king, she had been aware of being watched closely. There had been the great wizard, who watched her thoughtfully with his dark eyes from under his large bushy eyebrows. She was surprised when their eyes met. He had given her a respectful nod and continued to study her. And the dwarf, Gimli, and elf, Legolas, had watched her also. And then…there had been _him_. She had watched her cousin offer a large cup to each of the important guests in turn, hailing them. When the Lord Aragorn took the cup, he hailed her cousin before drinking. She had been startled when his gray eyes sought hers. This unexpected contact between them was broken only when her cousin returned to her side. It had been the first time she met his gaze that night. Unbeknownst to her, he had been aware of her from the moment she had entered the Golden Hall. 

The king ordered her and her cousin to sit and eat, too. But she hardly ate any of the mouthwatering dishes. She became more and more uncomfortable of the several pondering gazes on her. Her cousin quietly asked what the matter was. She simply claimed not to be very hungry. She blushed slightly when out of the corner of her eye she saw the Lord Aragorn look at them – he must have overheard the small exchange – a frown appearing on his face as he looked from her cousin to her to her plate and back to her.

She had listened with interest as the king asked Lord Aragorn what path he now intended to follow. She and the whole rest of the company were dumbfounded when the ranger said he and his companions – Legolas, Gimli, and the Dunedain – would travel the Paths of the Dead tomorrow. She felt the drain from her face, and her heart sank. The Paths of the Dead! Just the name of the place stirred fear in the heart of the bravest soldier. Those who attempted to travel it did not come out alive. Why would he risk such a dangerous journey?

The hall was filled with mutterings from the tables as guests whispered to each other regarding this absurd plan. She was silent, her face carefully kept blank, though, trying to understand why her heart felt as though it was going to break. What a wave of sadness washed over her! She feared for him… She had been in his company only a few times before; yet she feared for him. She raised her gaze from her plate to discover Lord Aragorn looking at her, searching for a reaction. She immediately lowered her gaze, her shoulders slumping. Many tried to sway Lord Aragorn's mind, but he was firm and did not relent. It was when the last of the arguing died down that the king half-heartedly called for the entertainment to begin.

She then made her excuses, claiming to be tired and bid the company good night. As she left the hall, she felt Gandalf, Gimli, Legolas, and Lord Aragorn's eyes follow her as she made her escape.

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"Eowyn? What are you doing here? And at such a late hour?" Idis asks without surprise. 

Eowyn smiles. Her cousin knew exactly where to find her. She steps out of the shadows and meets her cousin's gaze. 

"If I recall, you claimed to be tired," Idis states, "though that does not appear to be the case," she concludes, at seeing Eowyn still dressed in her gold satin gown from the feast. 

"It was only an excuse," Eowyn admits. "I did not desire to stay. I wished to think."

Idis nods, pursing her lips together. "It is easier to think here than in a crowed hall – especially when a certain ranger could not take his eyes off you."

"Nothing ever escapes your notice, does it, Idis?" Eowyn asks, a faint blush ing her cheeks, smiling before walking to the edge of the balcony and placing her hands on the rail.

Idis returns the smile and joins her at the railing. A peaceful silence hangs around the cousins. 

Eowyn's brow furrows as she wonders again why she was of such interest to Gandalf, Gimli, Legolas, and Lord Aragorn. She had not been offended by their gazes, for she felt the respect they had towards her. She had been mainly curious. 

They had not looked upon her as an animal does when stalking its prey.  Their look had been unlike that of the man who the last few years had watched her from the shadows, whom she felt trailing in her footsteps, and who filled her with anger, spite, and fear when she turned and met his stare. 

"They are not like him," Idis says quietly.

"I know." 

Grima was thrown out, and Théoden was in his right mind again when the four travelers arrived at Edoras. Hope at last pierced the darkness that had surrounded the country. For the first time in a long time, joy overfilled the women's hearts. 

Idis turns away from the view. "Don't stay up too late. You should get some rest. We will see the guests off in the morning."

Eowyn nods, sadness reflecting in the deep pools of her pale blue eyes. "Good night…and thank you."

Idis smiles at her cousin with a mix of affection, sadness, and pity before disappearing into the shadows. 

Wrapping her arms around her body, Eowyn resumes searching the sky, however not finding what she seeks. A tear slides down her pale cheek, and she draws a haggard breath. 

"It is a beautiful night."

With amazing quickness Eowyn whirls and reaches for the dagger hidden in the folds of her dress but sighs in relief at seeing the Lord Aragorn. "My Lord," she says, nodding her head to him respectfully. 

"My Lady, I did not mean to startle you," he apologizes.

Eowyn nods again in acceptance and meets his gaze which seems to ponder what he sees in her eyes. Silence hangs between them for many moments. Finally, unable to hold his gaze any more, Eowyn turns her face back toward the clear night sky.

"It is," she agrees, at last speaking, "yet also cold." 

Aragorn moves to the rail next to Eowyn, but instead of studying the star-covered sky, he watches the woman beside him. In the moonlight her face is white, while her golden hair is mixed with silver. Just like the night, she is beautiful yet cold, though her "frost" is slowly melting as in a warming sun. He lifts his gaze to the sky.

"You should get some rest, my Lord. You will rise early and have a long journey before you." Whereas at the feast Eowyn did not give any outward sign of her reaction to Lord Aragorn announcing his choice to travel the Paths of the Dead, there is a tremble in her voice now, and she rapidly blinks back tears which suddenly well up in her eyes as she lowers her head slightly.

Aragorn turns toward her, a troubled air coming over him. "You would advise me from taking this road also."

Lifting her eyes full of unshed tears, Eowyn looks upon him. "It is madness that you would take this path now. My uncle needs you, our people need you. I…" She looks down as tears run down her face, too proud to let him see her cry. Her heart beats with growing distress. _I need you,_ she silently pleads. Instead, she attempts to regain her composure and asks in a shaky voice, "Will you leave now us in such a time of need, my Lord?" Should he somehow survive the Paths of the Dead, their paths may never cross again; this thought causes Eowyn's already achy heart to nearly break.  

No words reach out to her, and her shoulders slump. She opens and closes her mouth, wanting to destroy the silence, but is at a loss. She jerks with surprise as Aragorn's hand touches her cheek softly, then moves down to her chin, turning her face, making her look at him. Eowyn's eyes widen slightly, and her lips part in surprise. Instead of keeping his eyes hooded of emotion as he usually does, she can clearly see the troubled grief in Aragorn's eyes as he gazes gravely down on her tear-stained face, as though he carries a great secret pain. Half-daringly, she tries to guess the cause of this, yet fearfully does not. 

Forgetting for a moment her own cares, she reaches up a hand to stroke his cheek, but loses her courage just as they are about to touch. She seeks to drop her hand, yet Aragorn claims it with his other hand, slowly lowering both but not freeing them. 

Aragorn says quietly, "The king shall ride to the aid of Gondor. He shall have you and Lady Idis rule in his stead." His eyes seem to search her soul. "But my path lies elsewhere. Do not give up on hope. There is always hope."

"I do not desire to rule and wait. If you will not turn from this road, let me come with you!" Eowyn says desperately. 

"No!" Aragorn says harshly. Eowyn is startled by this strong response. His tone softens. "Your place is here with your people. I could not allow you to ride with us without the king's permission; he would not grant it, nor would I."

Fire flashes in Eowyn's eyes. "Must I now be imprisoned in another cage? I only desire to be free, to have a chance at doing great deeds. I am not a coward," she states passionately, averting her eyes from his.

"Indeed you are not," Aragorn quietly agrees.

"I would go and meet danger, not wait for it to come like a wave unexpected upon us should it not be vanquished. Please take me with you," she cries, "so I may fight with you or die on the road fighting evil."

And here Aragorn becomes deathly pale. He unsteadily returns his hand up to her cheek and caresses it slowly, gently. "No, Eowyn," he says hoarsely with deep emotion. At hearing him say her name instead of "my Lady," Eowyn's eyes lock with his. "I would come to great sorrow should you pass from this world. I fear what would befall you should I let you come."

Eowyn can only gaze up at him in astonishment at hearing this confession. Now she understands what she could not earlier of his being troubled and full of sorrow. She now knows that her feelings are not unrequited as she originally thought. Yet, despite this being a wonderful realization, there is now this separating which cannot be changed; and now it hurts all the more because they may not meet again, now that they understand each other. So, she does not smile at Aragorn, nor does he. Tears are still in her eyes, and he still carries his worry. Sadness is wrapped around them like a cloak. Only their eyes shine with a mysterious light which makes their hearts feel a little joyful. They imprint an image of the other on their hearts, to treasure and carry always. 

Their heads draw close together, their lips pressing gently against each other. It is a kiss of loss and hope and newfound love. It is sweet and warm, not full of passion. They reluctantly pull apart and silently gaze at each other as gravely as before.  

"If I live, we shall meet again," Aragorn says comfortingly. 

A small, sad smile touches Eowyn's face as her gaze slips over his face._ Hope, there is hope even when there seems to be none._ She simply nods slowly. Aragorn removes his hand from her face and releases her hand which he had possessed in his own. Both immediately miss the feel of the other. 

"You should get some rest, Aragorn," Eowyn softly suggests. "You have a long journey." 

Aragorn bows his head in agreement, remaining silent as he turns his gaze toward the twinkling stars. 

"Good night," Eowyn says, curtsying, and starts to go. 

She halts when Aragorn gently places his hand on her arm. Turning to face him, she watches him place a lingering kiss on the back of her hand, causing her to tremble. He memorizes her face a final time. 

"Good night," he whispers, the corners of his mouth turning up a little.

Sharing one last glance, Eowyn leaves him and heads toward her chamber, while Aragorn thoughtfully turns his gaze to the night sky.

THE END 


End file.
